Sometime after this, the funeral of O. Cromwell was solemnized with very great pomp, not at all agreeable to that condition he was once in; for the time was when he would have abhorred such an idolatrous honour as was now paid to his image. On the day of this pompous funeral, which was the 23d of November, it happened that Edward Burrough came riding from Kingston into London, not knowing any thing of what was done there. As he entered at Charing-cross, he beheld a great multitude of people thronging exceedingly, the streets being filled as far as he could see, and abundance gazing at the windows, and upon the balconies, and house tops. There were also guards of horse and foot that stopped his horse, and it was told him, that he might not pass that way. Yet he did not know what was the matter; but at length he perceived that Cromwell’s image, richly adorned, was to be carried that way towards Westminster. The consideration of this, was like an arrow which pierced his breast: and because of this idolatry, he felt such a fire kindled in him, that he was, as it were, filled with the indignation of the Lord, whose fury ran through him, to cry, Plagues, plagues, and vengeance against the authors of this abomination. Nay, so ardent was his zeal, that if he had been moved to it, and it had been possible to have done it, he could, (not at all minding his own life,) have ridden through the guards and multitude, to have sounded the judgments of God against the idolaters. And considering that all this sinful idolatry, was about the funeral of Oliver Cromwell: ‘Alas, for him,’ said Burrough with himself, ‘who was once a great instrument in the hand of the Lord, to break down many idolatrous images! Did not the Lord once stir up his heart against all such things? And did not once his children, officers, soldiers and army, pull down all the images and crosses, and all such like popish stuff, wherever they met with it? What grievous and abominable work is this? Have they now made a costly image of him? And are such as were once his soldiers now guarding it, and watching over it, and his children and officers following it, and multitude of the inhabitants of London wondering and gazing after an image of him? This is sad, and great pity: what a change is this in so short a time?’ This zealous testimony E. Burrough caused to be printed, whereby he raised to himself a more lasting monument, than by the erecting of a statue was made to his quondam friend O. Cromwell. Now since the persecution of E. Burrough’s friends, notwithstanding that he had written to Richard Cromwell, did not cease, and that all exhortations and warnings were rejected, E. Burrough in the month December, wrote the following lines to Richard and his council: _‘To the Protector and his Council._